The Night Before Christmas 

I’m not sleepy, but I’m tired.

Lots of people in one house. The Chihuahua got nervous, as did I, but we made it through another Christmas Eve dinner.

I was only asked to drop my pants and show off my new tattoo to everyone, children included, three times during the party. Twice by my mother and once by my sister-in-law. I declined. Why emotionally scar the kids when they have plenty of time to be messed up later in life? Besides, that’s not my job. Life will take care of that. And, for the record, there was no alcohol at the event.

My poor grandma had to go home very early as she messed herself. Being 88 years old and on some strong antibiotics, that’s bound to happen from time to time. Dad will give her the presents she accumulated from everyone later. Big Brother drove her home.

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